Picketing and Picket Fences
by MidnightJinx
Summary: It wasn't even his thing, all this yelling and waving signs and sitting outside – but Palm had asked him to go with her, and how could he say no? That is until she ditched him. Cold and annoyed, he made his decision. He was going home. Right now. [Modern(?) AU where Killua is a rebellious Hipster trust fund brat, and Gon is protesting against another land development project.]


Originally published on the 2014-06-02 at AO3

Part 1 of the Skinny Jeans and Khaki Series

* * *

See, really, he hadn't planned on this happening.

It wasn't even his thing, all this yelling and waving signs and sitting outside – but Palm had asked him to go with her, and how could he say no? Hell, she was probably the only one on the entire campus who was talking to him; most definitely the only one in his business unit who was. So, rather than incur her wrath, of which he had seen much too much of recently anyway, he allowed her to drag him off to this _protest._

What they were protesting, he didn't know. What he did know was that his butt was getting cold sitting on this sidewalk, and if he was putting up with this any longer Palm would be owing him one of those double chocolate muffins on top of the chai latte he was promised. Shouts about land development and something about a golf course were merging into one annoyingly persistent drone. The building throb of an oncoming headache had started, and wow, he was _really_ not in the mood for this. Standing up, he gave the crowd a perfunctory scan to confirm that _yes_ Palm had disappeared, and _yes_ he could give the excuse that he looked for her in complete honesty when she confronted him later about ditching. What he hadn't expected was that guy in the front line to turn around - talking to some random person in a beanie and battered army jacket – and smile so widely.

There weren't many points in his life that Killua could say he was taken off-guard. But...right now was definitely one of them if the slight flutter in his heart and creeping smile were any indication.

So OK, maybe he'd stay a little longer.

Jostling his way to the front was a lot easier than expected, with tired protesters eager to allow someone else to stand at the defensive line and shout whatever it was they were shouting, and waving those over-large signs about. Making his way towards the girl standing next to that smiling guy – who now, was shouting about damaging ecosystems to the few passerbies – and put his hand on her shoulder. Shirking off the touch, her head turned and looked at his hand quizzically.

"Uh, hey. Do you need a break? I can... take over if you want?"

Looking him up and down then shrugging, she grabbed a water bottle from by her feet before she disappeared into the crowd behind them. Now it was just he and this guy. This guy who hadn't yet noticed his neighbour had abruptly changed. Well, that was easy enough to amend.

"Hey." It took a second for his greeting to register, but when it did, the addressed boy turned and gave another one of those smiles that seemed to stretch his entire face along with his mouth. So, a grin really. The largest grin he'd ever seen. Pointed directly at him.

"Hey there!" and with that, Killua knew he was doomed. This guy was too happy. Too happy to be shouting on the edge of a protest group; too happy to be talking to a random stranger who was _also_ meant to be shouting on the edge of a protest group. "I'm Gon." and just like that, this guy – _Gon -_ stuck out his hand in greeting.

Taking his hand, with only the slightest hint of hesitation, he replied, "Killua." Rough callus and the distinct scratchiness of bandaids was the first thing he noticed when Gon shook his hand vigorously. Secondly was the warmth.

"Did Kite leave?"

"She needed a break, I think. I dunno where she's gone. Somewhere in that direction."

"Oh, that's okay. I was just surprised. Normally Kite's the last one to take a break this early."

Well. He'd be sure to come up with a better excuse next time. These people were the _passionate_ ones. But really, maybe the outfit in differing shades of khaki should have clued him in on that. And the bright green shirt. Really.

"You're pretty happy for a guy who was just shouting about the deaths of frogs."

"Well, those are two different issues! We're both here to stop this development, so of course, we're comrades!" Killua was slightly wary of the energy Gon had whilst he spoke, as he became acutely aware that no, you shouldn't be blushing over being called a comrade by someone who bought all his clothes from outdoors stores.

Gon hadn't seemed to notice the distinct reddening though, as he continued, oblivious. "It's really awful. The Numere wetlands are the only place the frog-in-waiting is found, so without that, they're definitely extinct. The fact that they're so big makes it harder to introduce them to other areas too. It's like these people don't even care!" hand now waving around in indication of 'these people'. "Actually, most of the flora and fauna are unique to the area. It should be protected, but _of course_ it's not. It's not even like this area needs another hotel resort."

And it was with that, that Killua felt his stomach drop as realization dawned. A new resort development. Being built by 2.5 billion jenni of the Zoldyck conglomerate's money. Oh. _Oh shit._ Palm was either a complete sadist or a complete idiot.

"These people don't care Gon, and I don't think protesting this is really going to change their minds."

"That's OK; we're not trying to convince _them_. We've got to let other people - the masses - know why it's important to stop this. They'll be the ones who can start proper change." and with that, another jaw-stretching smile was sent his way.

And Killua thought that maybe, just maybe, standing out in the cold and shouting at confused and irate civilians wasn't the worst use of time he could imagine.

* * *

"...so he's been travelling around the Azian continent with some friends of his; he's been gone, what? Nine months now?" he turned towards the girl, slowly unfurling sleeping bags.

"Yeah. He left November last year." Killua noticed she didn't say much, but when she did Gon always listened. He stubbornly refused to acknowledge this curdling feeling that was all too much like jealousy, and instead focused on trying helplessly to undo this _fucking knot, oh my god, why was this so difficult_. Sensing his new friend's distress, Gon moved across and deftly undid the frayed cord that was holding the thin bedding in a bundle. The swift ease he had had suggested years and years of experience – and from what he'd been saying earlier, Gon most definitely had it.

"And what about you, Killua? What do your family do?"

...and this was why this whole thing was a bad idea. He should've known he couldn't hide it. Couldn't spend more time with this strange guy who spoke so passionately about bird migrations and tree bark remedies. Who had offered for him to stay at his campsite when he found out that Killua was, for all intents and purposes, completely alone and without preparations for spending the night. He should have left that morning, as soon as Palm had been separated from him. Or he should just lie, pretend his family wasn't one of the richest in the world, wasn't the one everyone here was battling against, wasn't expecting him to take over the business once he graduated. But one look at that expectant face and he knew he couldn't. _Knew_ that Gon would know if he lied. He sighed deeply and braced himself for the inevitable rejection.

"Uh, my family are the Zoldycks. So...so, they do everything, really... or _own_ everything, I should say."

Somehow, this confession was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Harder than forcing himself to class everyday where he was attending just to receive a degree he didn't want; harder than leaving that house in the countryside for university, leaving Alluka and Kalluto to the wiles of the rest of his family. And Canary. He missed Canary. And Killua was slowly realizing that he'd had too many regrets for an 18 year old. And Gon still hadn't said anything.

Until he did.

"Wow, have you travelled a lot? What's it like in the mountains of the Yorbian continent? Ging said they're cold enough to freeze your tongue solid, but nothing I've researched about it agrees."

Dumbstruck, Killua just looked on incredulously.

Well, that wasn't the reaction he was expecting.

"W-wait Gon. I'm a _Zoldyck._ I don't think you understand."

"Like, the same Zoldycks who own the huge private hospital over on Serpine Avenue?"

"Yes, and the ones funding this resort which will destroy this wetland. The ones responsible for this whole mess."

"And you?"

The look Gon gave him in that moment was breathtaking. Literally. Killua had to make sure he was still breathing, and was a little surprised to hear his heart stuttering along quickly.

"And me what?"

"Do you want to destroy this wetland? No, right? You wouldn't be here otherwise."

"Gon, I told you I was dragged along by a girl I know. I didn't give a crap about the wetlands before you told me about them." He was going to stop this hope from unfurling in his heart, wouldn't allow Gon to pull open and unwind his heartstrings similarly to the sleeping bag from earlier.

"But you stayed."

...and that was all he needed to hear. It frightened him a little, at how fast those strings snapped. How quickly tears threatened to fall and decided to burn against his eyes. How relief washed over him and quieted the echoing self-doubt, self-hatred, self-disgust that had filled his mind. So instead of making one of his trademark comebacks, or even responding like any normally functioning person would, Killua just sat there. Head down, staring at Gon's knees like they were the answers to the fucking universe; rather than his eyes, which he knew _were_.

One deep breath. Two.

"Alright, I'll give you that one. But I'm still not convinced about those things you said about the flying fish earlier."

Gon just poked out his tongue at that, and proceeded to try and give Killua a heart attack.

"Well, we'll just have to go together and find out!"

* * *

If anyone had asked Killua if he'd enjoyed the past three days, he would've lied.

Told them that if Palm hadn't threatened him with physical violence he never would have stayed as long as he did, despite only meeting up with her again as the crowds dissipated on that last day, Gon by his side, introducing them both.

If any of his family called to ask "What is the meaning of this!" in regards to the front page photo in the York New Times - where he stood, hands holding a sign, brow creased, yelling to the camera, Gon right next to him – he would have ended the call before the first ring, rather than try to explain that one.

It wasn't even like he cared about what his family or the people at university thought about him. Rather, just the fact that he had spent his weekend camping out on the street, protesting to help things that he'd had no prior interest for, befriending a guy who for all intents and purposes was really _not_ someone he - with his image and reputation - should be befriending, baffled him.

Yet here he was.

Gon was unlike anyone he had met before. Large smiles and open heart, and always, _always_ trusting his instincts.

He told stories of his father, aglow with recalling memories of amazing animals, plants, places. Ging seemed distant from his son, but from the way Gon spoke of him, you'd think the world was revolving around him. That second day, Gon's Aunt had come over with some lunch for them all, and all at once Killua understood. She too radiated warmth greater than Killua had ever known, inviting. It hurt in the sweetest of ways, and he knew his insides were probably more twisted up than the pastry swirls she brought with her.

And the nights. The nights were cold, but they huddled together, fighting off the chill with fearless attitudes, springing up the next morning and resuming the yelling, chanting, everything. And the entire time, it was Gon, Gon who inspired this in him. Resolve Killua had never known or needed before. This feeling of _wanting_ to be with somebody, not merely accepting their presence around him. Scaring him, but absolutely yearning for it.

Killua had realized his life of homeschooling and a dispassionate relationship with his parents had left him cold, alone and unable to understand what people had meant when they talked about the comfort of others.

Now though, now he felt it. Felt it hotter than the sun within his chest as he willed the passage of time to slow, to stop, to delay the inevitable ending of the first and only substantial relationship he'd ever had.

And then it was the end of the third day.

Camp packed up, Kite having brought her car around, and the three of them strategically trying to fit all of the signs, sleeping bags, and various other luggage into the back. It was a quick process nonetheless, and Killua was getting ready to say good bye, maybe tell Gon he'd see him around and that would be the end of it. The end of the longest weekend he'd ever had, the end of the weekend he wished could stretch til forever. And sure, they had exchanged numbers, would promise to make future plans and would almost certainly follow up on said plans.

But Killua knew, without a doubt, that Gon was infinitely more important to him than Killua was to Gon... and knowing that was what made him blink in surprise when, after packing the last of the bags, Gon turned to him with that toothy grin and said "so, where are we going now?"

"Huh?"

"Kite said they'll take the stuff back, so we're free to do anything you need to do. Or we can just hang out otherwise. You said you live in an apartment, I bet it's really swish."

The connection between his ears and brain seemed to be malfunctioning, because Killua could have sworn he'd just heard Gon say he wanted to go to his apartment.

"You want to hang out. Now."

"Yep!"

"We've literally just spent the last three days together, Gon."

"Yeah, but that wasn't really hanging out, was it? I wanna see your apartment, but we could go to mine instead if you'd prefer!"

"Gon..."

"Yeah, Killua?"

"I need a shower. _You_ need a shower. And probably sleep, you're delirious"

He got a laugh in exchange. Deep from the diaphragm, loud and long.

"So? We can sleep once we get there. Although, you may want us to go to your place if you're used to hot running water, mine's been broken for a while."

And as simple as that, Gon had seemingly invited himself over. To sleep. In Killua's apartment. And the hope Killua had been squashing had started to spiral out of control again. Really, it was all Gon's fault.

"Alright, alright, we'll go to my place. Lemme get a drink first though. I've spent the last three days without sugar _or_ caffeine, and I feel like I could snap and kill somebody at any moment."

It was in that spirit that the two entered the nearest coffee shop, left with something caffeinated _and_ sugary, and made their way to Killua's apartment that had always felt too big, too cold, too sterile.

Killua couldn't wait.

Walking side by side, both happier than they would admit. Gon halfway through some story about poachers and foxbears, Killua faintly wondering if all friendship felt this warm and complete and perfect, and coming to the conclusion that no. No it couldn't be.

And admitting to himself, in the smallest part of his heart that maybe, _maybe_ this was what they meant by love in all those songs and movies.

And that thought was quickly squashed down with the rest, too much too soon and way too bothersome to think about.

Because, really, he hadn't planned on _that_ happening.


End file.
